


Mr. Tambourine Man

by isawrightless



Series: Heaven Tonight [4]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU - Comicverse, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-21
Updated: 2012-04-21
Packaged: 2017-11-04 01:06:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/387964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isawrightless/pseuds/isawrightless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He closes his eyes, hugs her a little tighter. She’s a breath away from his voice, something that always helps. “C’mon now, shhhhhh. You think Daddy would let you go through this if he knew a way to stop it? What kind of daddy would I be?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr. Tambourine Man

Sarah’s been crying for a little more than two hours now.

Her hands are clenched into fists, touching her father’s chest as he rests her head upon his shoulder and runs a hand up and down her back, an attempt to soothe her. The desperation on his face is obvious. His eyes are swollen, red from lack of proper sleep, and it feels like someone cracked his head open to hammer pins directly into his skull. Sleep clothes are still on; the ratty over sized black T-shirt and grey sweatpants. He’s a mess. Doesn’t care, couldn’t care less if he wanted to, and all he does right now is whisper into his daughter’s ear that everything will be okay, bouncing her gently up and down as he walks around the apartment. Movement has proven itself to be a good calming tool. Tim wishes he could fly right now. Yesterday Kon took Sarah in his arms and hovered around the room during one of her crying spells. She didn’t stop right away like she would’ve if it had been any other day, but it did calm her down rather quickly. Except Kon is out today, busy with the grocery shopping Tim sent him to do. Apparently all they have in the fridge are eggs and juice and Sarah’s milk.

Tim is trying to be rational and let his brain register that Sarah’s discomfort is not his fault. He’s not a bad parent for not being able to get her to feel better when she’s colicking. But the sound of her cries tug at his heart every time. It’s his little girl, after all. But he can’t respond to her, not well enough. It’s been like that for the past week. Infant colic is normal, but there’s no certain way to prevent it, no answer and Tim always has the answers, especially when it comes to Sarah. Kon tries to calm Tim down by telling him she’s fine, that he can hear it and her heart rate is normal, so is her breathing. It’s enough to convince Tim to sleep, at least until Sarah starts crying again, and then Tim gets up faster than Kon has ever seen before.

Today it’s like everything is sinking in. Tim’s exhausted and he doesn’t know what else to do besides cradle Sarah and reassure her, once again, that there’s nothing wrong and that she will get better.

“I know, I know. It’s all right, baby girl, Daddy’s here. Shhh, see, Daddy’s here. It’s okay.” he tries and is rewarded with more shrieking. He closes his eyes, hugs her a little tighter. She’s a breath away from his voice, something that always helps. “C’mon now, shhhhhh. You think Daddy would let you go through this if he knew a way to stop it? What kind of daddy would I be?”

Sarah’s face is flushed, and Tim is not sure how they ended up in the bathroom, but he’s dancing with her as they walk. He looks at the mirror, no reason at all, no strangers in the reflection. Though he looks beaten, he knows that man now, knows who he is, knows what he needs to do -well, no, he doesn’t. But whatever it is, he must be doing it right. He looks away, the warm colors of the bathroom makes for a good place to be.

Tim tries not to think about Kon and the fact that he should be home by now. Tim blocks out the bad feelings that threatens to get inside and start to make him paranoid, wondering if someone from another dimension is trying to invade the world and Kon got caught in the middle of it and is now fighting to keep himself alive and-

No. Kon’s probably just going crazy at the Supermarket. Tim is well aware of Kon’s discontentment whenever they do grocery shopping together. Only because Kon wants to buy everything that is not healthy and Tim has to explain to him that just because he can’t die of a heart attack generated by all the bacon he eats, doesn’t mean it’s okay to eat said bacon all the time. So whenever Kon goes out alone, he makes sure to enjoy what he calls quality time with his sweets and meat.

There’s absolutely nothing to worry about, and even if there was, Kon would still come home in one piece. It’s not like Tim can turn on the TV to watch the news. Two minutes ago such action only served to make Sarah more uncomfortable. And she hasn’t stopped crying and Tim is changing the way he holds her, but it only gets worse, so he goes back to the way they were. Her chest on his chest, a hand on her back and another one on her head.

“Shhhhh, Daddy’s here.” Tim says. He spots the empty bathtub and gets in. Realizes he is really tired when he sits and finds himself comfortable in there. He doesn’t move Sarah, lets her stay in the same position for it’s the only one she likes right now. “It’s okay, sweetie. It’s okay. Shhhh. We can stay here all day if you want. I promise you I’m not sleepy.” Tim knows that doesn’t make sense. He also knows that’s from a song he heard not too long ago. It’s from a singer he likes, but he can’t remember which one. He can’t even remember the lyrics, just the melody.

So familiar— a rush of contentment as he puts it together. It’s coming back to him in every detail; he remembers his mother singing this song to him whenever he couldn’t sleep. She’d tuck him into bed, caress his face and kiss his forehead. She’d sing and he’d trick her and close his eyes. She’d kiss him again, shut off the light and close the door. But he’d stay up trying to figure out what was the meaning behind the song.

He smiles. Perfectly. He remembers it perfectly. The rhythm, the softness, every word that makes the song so pleasant for him.

And after a while, the humming of a melody turns into singing.

“Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me. I’m not sleepy and there is no place I’m going to,” low at first, Tim notices the change in Sarah’s crying. “Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me. In the jingle jangle morning I’ll come followin’ you.” he sings to Sarah and hopes she understands how much he loves her. Hopes she gets the same sensation he used to get when his mother sang to him. “…It’s just a shadow you’re seein’ that he’s chasing. Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me. I’m not sleepy and there is no place I’m going to.” That she’s protected here, no matter what, and that she doesn’t have to feel scared. Not monster under my bed scared, but real world is too big scared—there’s no reason for her to feel that way because she’s not alone.

But babies don’t know what they’re doing, what they’re feeling. They act on instinct, around the search for comfort. They feel something, they don’t know what, they make it known. And a few minutes later, Sarah finally stops crying. Tim wants to scream that he is a good dad, that he got his little girl to calm down all by himself. Sure they ended up in an empty bathtub that turned out to be really cozy, but he did it. He can’t stop smiling, can’t stop feeling oddly proud of himself. It’s not the first time he coonsoles her, no, but she just had one of her worst crying spells, and they pulled through together. It’s a bit silly, he knows, and at the same time it’s the greatest thing he’s ever experienced.

They stay in the quiet for a moment. Both have their eyes closed, Sarah is the only one sleeping. Tim takes in her scent; it’s the scent all babies carry with them. It’s pure and innocent. Fresh. Fresh to the world, fresh to other scents. Kon likes to talk about the future and how she’s going to be when she hits her teens. Tim talks about it, too, but he appreciates the now more. He doesn’t say it out loud, and he wants her to grow up healthy and smart, of course he does, but he secretly wishes he could keep her like this longer than necessary. Because she feels so his, she does, she’s so small and pretty soon she won’t fit in his arms anymore. Pretty soon he’ll be standing proudly, clapping as his little girl graduates high school. So he loves the future, but he adores this now, this present. He adores how she recognizes the sound of his voice enough to calm down, how she brights up when Kon plays with her. He adores how she scares herself when she sneezes—last time her eyes widened for a moment, and she looked at Tim, eyes filled with amazement , wondering what had happened. He adores how sometimes when Kon is holding her, if you look from a certain angle, she disappears completely.

Tim hears Kon coming in and is silently thankful for no lunatics trying to invade the world and destroy his boyfriend-slash-unofficial husband in the process. He opens his eyes when Kon finds them in the bathroom and brings a finger to his mouth, a warning to keep it down.

“What are you doing in here?” Kon whispers his question. His eyebrows are raised and his lips are slightly curved at the scene before him.

“I honestly have no idea.” Tim answers in the same tone as Kon.

“Want me to carry you two to the bedroom?”

Tim shakes his head. “I don’t want to disturb her.”

“You can’t stay-“

“Just for a little longer.”

Kon sighs and shakes his head. “Okay. Wait a sec.”

Before Tim can ask, Kon’s out of the bathroom. Tim tries to figure out what Kon’s doing by listening to the sounds coming from the kitchen. He’s searching for something in one of the shopping bags. On his way back to the bathroom, he opens the bedroom door and closes it after a minute. Tim fully understands what’s happening when Kon comes into picture again; a small purple blanket in a hand and a bag of potato chips in the other. He kneels in front of the tub, sets the bag aside as he carefully covers Sarah with the blanket. Tim moves his hands away for a moment, and holds her again once Kon finishes his task. He follows Kon with his eyes, they meet, Kon leans closer and steals a kiss from him.

“Please tell me you followed the list I gave you.” Tim says, and Kon starts eating the potato chips. His concern only grows when he gets a sheepish smile as an answer. “Oh God.”

“Relax. Think I’d deprive you from your salad?”

“Why do you have to mock my salad?”

“I’m not mocking your salad.”

“Yes, you are. Stop belittling my salad.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. That was oh so rude of me.”

Tim’s smile gets wider. “I’m glad you realize that.”

“So…why are we in the bathroom?”

Tim shrugs. “I was trying to get her to stop crying,” his eyes dart down to the baby. “Next thing I know, I’m in the tub singing and she’s sleeping.”

“The tub was part of my next question.” Kon watches, amused as Tim offers a small chuckle. “Wait, you sang?”

“I sang.” Tim admits, fighting the blush that’s tainting his cheeks.

And Kon stares, laughs a soundless laugh, “You do know that’s adorable, right?” he asks, and Tim keeps his gaze fixated on their baby. “I wanna hear you sing.”

“It’s just for Sarah.”

Kon can see the color on Tim’s face and the shy smile. Then there’s a comfortable moment where no one needs to say anything else, and Kon goes back to his snack.

First they exist, and there are forms and shapes, then they coexist and there’s nothing else besides that.

Sarah sniffs in her sleep and moves a little.

“She’s gonna wake up hungry.” And he needs to get everything ready before that happens. But Tim doesn’t say that part since he believes it to be very much implied.

“I’ll take care of it. You need to get some sleep.” Kon says.

“I’m fine.” As irony would have it, Tim ends the sentence with a yawn that stretches out his ‘fine’.

Kon gets up and wipes his hands on his jeans. He bends down a little and lifts Tim out of the tub. Said being doesn’t protest, makes sure his grip on Sarah is tight and secure, and tells Kon to be careful. He drowns into the hold, leans his head against Kon. Remembers how much he hated being carried in the field. It always meant that he had screwed up or had less than a couple of hours to live. But being carried by Kon, and in this particular situation, feels different. There’s no danger.

He and Sarah are completely safe.

Once they’re in the bedroom, Kon places Tim on the bed and takes Sarah from him. He watches as Tim gets under the blankets and then looks down at his daughter. She’s sleeping soundly and Kon can only imagine what Tim did to make that happen.

Kon looks around. The crib is in the living room and he’s happy for that. Now he can enjoy his movies and games with Sarah, and Tim can have his rest without interruptions.

“Wake me up if something happens.”

Kon rolls his eyes and smiles. “Of course.”

And Tim —

—Tim has strange dreams consisting of Bob Dylan and colorful bathtubs.


End file.
